What The Hell?
by nico420
Summary: Hibbles! There are a few references to various episodes. Also, I'm referring to Him as "Satan" in this fanfic, because let's face it, "Him" is a silly sounding name, and obviously not his real one. I want it to sound more mature. And diabolical. :p
1. Chapter 1

I do not own The Powerpuff Girls or any of the following characters.

* * *

Bubbles was wandering around town, aimlessly, trying to clear her head of all the unwanted chaos. Lately, she felt like she was going crazy. Now seventeen, she was fairly much the same old Bubbles- not as much of a crybaby, but still sensitive, emotional, sweet, innocent, optimistic, and caring. Unnaturally caring. The kind of person who wouldn't hurt a fly. Actually, she'd been a vegetarian practically her whole life (which made sense, seeing as how she could talk to animals).

Recently, she had been struggling with her optimism quite a bit, though. While it was natural for her to look on the bright side, to try and make herself feel better rather than wallow in self-pity or indulge in negative emotions, lately, she found she was having to force it; but the harder she tried to think positive, the more negative she felt, like she was repressing her true emotions or something, burying them with false optimism and empty words. Letting her wounds fester... Sweeping her problems under the carpet and letting them turn into evil dust bunnies.

They were scaring her, these changes; these feelings that clouded out her sunshiny disposition. She didn't know what they were, or why she was having them, but they were causing her a lot of pain. Her sisters didn't seem to be struggling with this problem; Blossom was knee-deep in homework and extra-curricular activities, but she was good, and Buttercup, who was busy with sports, had been hanging out with her childhood friend, Mitch, a bit more than usual, lately, and Bubbles thought they were probably going out. _Some_thing was going on between them.

She, on the other hand, spent most of her time by herself, writing or drawing or painting; lost in her own little world. Thinking deeply about everything, just as she was doing now.

She kicked a can out of her way, trying to figure out what these feelings were, and how she could feel them if there wasn't anything there to cause them. Sure, life wasn't easy- it isn't easy for anyone- but there was nothing in particular that was bringing her _down_. It's just that, in her mind, amidst the flowers and fairies, the rainbows and unicorns, the other things- the darker things, that had always been lurking in the shadows- were finally starting to come out.

Or was it that the shadows were taking over her mind; growing bigger as she cast more artificial light, giving the monsters more room to play?

* * *

Across town, Satan was watching her on his tv; playing certain parts over and over again. "Oh, Bubbles. Sweet, little Bubbles. Feeling depressed, are we? You've been having some dark thoughts, lately." His lips curled into a sneer.

She had grown into a beautiful young lady, with long blonde hair that she still kept in pigtails, and big, bright blue eyes. She had a cute, little voice and a squeaky giggle that drove him mad; made his heart flutter. Gave him butterflies in his stomach. Made him want to puke!

Such a feeling wasn't right. Love was _not_ something the devil should feel. But he felt it. Oh, he felt it; and it had long since been admitted.

He thought back to the event that first sparked his interest in her; though, not yet in a "romantic" way. He was watching as a monster was destroying Townsville (on the tv, with his magical powers). Then the Powerpuff Girls came along and started beating it up; using it as a jump rope before they tied it into a knot. Buttercup threw it to Blossom, yelling "Catch!," but she threw it too hard, and both the monster and Blossom went hurdling through a building and crashed into the side of the Mayor's.

"Sorry, Mayor," Blossom had said. "It wouldn't have happened if Buttercup wouldn't _throw_ so hard."

"Well, if you'd only _catch_."

"You _threw_ it too hard!"

"Did _not_."

"Did, _too_."

The sisters went back and forth for a while, until Bubble's finally intervened. "Stop it!" She screamed, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Satan, instantly, sat up; shocked, marveled, be_wil_dered by her sudden rage of emotion. It had only taken seconds of petty arguing to unleash a sea of it. He didn't know how anyone could be so emotional, so sensitive, so pure. "I hate it when you guys fight," she said, hanging her head in sorrow. He must have replayed that scene at a dozen times.

From then on, he had remained somewhat obsessed with Bubbles; never able to get her uncanny purity out of his head. He'd watch her on his tv sometimes; try to analyze her and figure out what makes her tick. Upon studying her, he discovered that, much to his enthrallment, she had a hidden dark side that her sisters didn't seem to possess. It was ironic. She was like a pure snow, and underneath it, was dirt.

It all made sense; she was a highly emotional girl, which meant that she was sensitive to both positive and negative emotions; love, hate, pain, happiness, fear, and anger. She also had a big imagination, and like most people with big imaginations, it was just as easy for her to imagine the things that made her scared and angry, as well as things she hoped to god would never happen, as it was to imagine the things that made her happy. Her mind _went_ places. She'd often catch herself thinking of hypothetical scenarios, whether out of paranoia or some sick curiosity, that left her feeling nauseous and guilty after; wondering why such a thought would creep into her innocent head. Why would it entertain such things if they made her feel uncomfortable, if she didn't want them to happen? As painful as the images were, she was relieved that she took no sadistic pleasure in them. The worse they made her feel, the better.

She found that she could be somewhat masochistic, though; occasionally reveling in her own bouts of sadness. And what they say about not being able to resist the power of the dark side was true; she couldn't ignore some of the things that lurked in the shadows, some of them made her feel good. Some things were fun to think about, in the same way some people think scary movies are fun to watch. Certain things just gave her a thrill, fueled a different side of her. If she fed it, it would eventually go away. The sun would rise again.

These things, she kept to herself; not even her sisters knew this side of her. The only one that did was _Him_; Satan. He was the only one that paid close enough attention to notice that she had her demons, and he wanted to be the greatest one she struggled with. He wanted to possess her thoughts the way she had possessed his, so she was never able to get rid of him. He wanted to see if he could provoke those demons, awaken the monsters that she suppressed, and corrupt her of her innocence. He wanted to see if he could do it.

On several occasions, he attempted to do so by disguising himself so she didn't know it was him; manipulating her feelings and persuading her skeletons to come out of the closet. In the end, all of his attempts failed, but once, when she was little, he managed to bring some of her monsters to life. Right after she'd had a little tiff with Buttercup, he came to her in the form of a butterfly, providing her with magical chalk, and told her to draw her feelings; the positive _and_ the negative ones. He watched as she quickly sketched drawing after drawing of hideous monsters across the pavement, wearing a furious expression the whole time. When she was finished, she was panting, out of breath; her eyes still narrowed and her teeth still clenched, but now she was wearing a sinister grin. He was shocked. It was a most beautiful sight.

"Did you get all your anger out?"

"Yes!... I had no idea I could express myself like that."

"Neither did I," he'd said, marveling at her cathartic artwork. He then destroyed the illusion that they were in a forest, and she was back in the real world on the school playground. All of a sudden, her drawings were coming to life. They peeled themselves off the black pavement and all hell broke loose. However, she was able to turn the situation around by erasing their angry features and replacing them with smiles, giving them mustaches and top hats and surrounding them with rainbows and stars.

He'd succeeded at making her sad and fueling her anger many a time, but he was never able to break her spirit. No matter how dark the corners of her mind were, the sun still shined on the rest. Those shadows wouldn't exist without a sun. Just as no one or nothing could eradicate her dark side, nothing or no one could eliminate her most prominent one. Still, Satan had to try. He just couldn't give up. He was trying to _prove_ something to himself. Despite the thrill it gave him when he imagined destroying her innocence, he wanted to prove to himself that he couldn't. For some reason, the thought gave him hope. Bubbles represented the small part of him that wasn't tainted with evil. If someone as sweet as her could spoil, it would destroy that part of him; the nightlight would go out and all that would be left was darkness. She was like the yin to his yang. She was the white side with the little black dot, and he was the black side with the little white dot.

As she grew older, he couldn't help but imagine "corrupting her innocence" in more ways than one; watching her bathe and change and do other things from the safety of his own couch. He realized he was falling in love with her and the whole thing made him sick, but it felt so good at the same time. He didn't know he could be so masochistic. He was usually he one to _cause_ pain, and with that, earned pleasure; not usually the one to enjoy _receiving_ it.

* * *

Bubbles crossed the road after looking both ways and continued walking in the same direction; presumably back to her house, since it was that way. Usually, she skipped merrily along (when she wasn't flying), smiling at the other pedestrians and greeting the many acquaintances she ran into, but today, she was walking with her head down, trying to avoid looking at anyone directly, so they wouldn't think that she was deliberately ignoring them. She appeared to be dragging herself along. Only the devil could see the curious looks that those who passed by were giving her.

"How much longer do I plan on watching her?" He said, out loud to himself. He seemed to be spending the majority of his time spying on her these days. It was turning into a really unhealthy obsession. When he wasn't watching her, he was thinking about her; he was restless and only felt satisfied when he could see her, like he was feeding an addiction. Yes, he was addicted. He was spending too much time on that couch, he was neglecting his up-until-then daily exercises and even his personal hygiene. He couldn't let this rule his life.

He got up and turned off the tv, telekinetically, deciding that he'd work out before taking a nice, hot bath. At least, for a little while, he should be able to get her out of his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

When Bubbles finally got home, Buttercup and Mitch were watching tv in the living room. Blossom was probably in her room or in the lab with the professor. She aspired to be a scientist, like him, so they spent a lot of time together, experimenting and stuff.

Now that the girls were older, they all had separate rooms. Their favorite colors remaining the same, Blossom's was painted pink, Buttercup's was green, and Bubbles' was blue. Blossom's was full of non-fiction books and science kits, with a chemistry set set-up on her desk and a single poster of Einstein on her wall. Buttercup's was messy, with clothes and various sporting equipment strewn across her floor, and several band posters tacked to her walls. The walls of Bubbles' room were covered in her own drawings and paintings of fantasy worlds, mythical creatures, and abstract designs that manifested her feelings.

She plopped down on her bed and stared up at them, losing herself in her imagination. She could see herself flying through the sky on Pegasus' back, right into the painting of the castle beside it. She pictured herself in a field of flowers, surrounded herself with fairies. She kept her eyes from the abstract paintings, not wanting to remind herself of whatever it was she was feeling when she painted them. She longed to be a kid again, back when only a sliver of the moon was missing. Now, almost half of it was covered in shadow, and she was afraid there was going to be a solar eclipse.

What made it worse, was that she couldn't get _Him_ out of her head. It wasn't all she thought about (the way all he could think about was her), but he always remained in the back of her mind. His image was burned there, and recently, it had been pushing its way to the front more and more.

He was the only one who somehow knew about that other side of her; that not only knew it, but understood it and wouldn't judge her for it, even if he encouraged it. So, really, he knew her better than anyone else. Better than her own friends and family. It felt good to have at least one person know her that way; _really_ know her. Secrets weigh the soul down; it's a part of you that you can never let go of. If at least one person knows, it's not entirely secret anymore, and it takes a heavy burden off your shoulders. It's like that other person carries a little bit of the weight for you.

What was more, was that it seemed like he was genuinely interested in her. And not just because he thought he could use her to destroy the Powerpuff Girls and finally bring about the Apocalypse. He seemed interested in her as a person. Sometimes, he even seemed concerned. Bubbles knew better than to think that, though. She knew he was probably just trying to trick her. The devil was infamous for manipulating people. And damn, was he good at it, because she could have sworn that he cared about her to some extent. If he did, he probably only cared about her dark side, though; she chalked it up to some sick fascination and the challenge of corrupting her innocence. Little did she know that this was only half true.

Either way, she couldn't help the fact that _she_ was interested in _him_, and even cared for him in a sense, too. Naturally, she cared for everyone, even those that probably didn't deserve to be cared about- she was too empathetic, merciful, forgiving- but it was different with him. She cared about him in a way that she didn't care about Mojo Jojo, the Gang Green Gang, Fuzzy Lumpkins, or the rest of the villains that she felt sorry for. She cared for him in a way that was genuine, and- dare she say it?- personal. The evilest of all their enemies, and yet, she felt that there was more to him than that. Wanted to be_lieve_ there was more.

She must have been crazy, harboring such feelings for the _devil_. A sweet little girl like her. There must have _really_ been something dark inside of her.

Still, she didn't want to judge him. She didn't see him the way other people saw him; as a symbol, as an icon; an image that struck fear into everyone's heart. He wasn't a symbol. He wasn't a name. He wasn't just a scary face. He was an individual with his own personality; too few attributes, and many, many flaws. She guessed that, in a way, she, too, knew him better than anybody else. They both knew each other better than anybody else, but _she_ wanted to know him _better_. Even if he _was_ the devil. She wanted to know _more_; wanted to know what the angel was like before he had fallen.

Just then, there was a knock at her door.

"Bubbles, dinner's ready!" Buttercup said.

"Okay! I'll be down in a minute!"

She heard her sister knock on Blossom's door, at the other end of the hall, before delivering the same messaging.

* * *

It smelled good downstairs, like garlic.

In the kitchen, Mitch and Buttercup were already seated, shoveling forkfuls of spaghetti in their mouths.

"Here you go," Professor said, handing Bubbles a plate. "One spaghetti dinner with marinara sauce, hold the meatballs."

"Thank you, Professor," Bubbles giggled, accepting the plate. She sat down across from Buttercup and her boyfriend. "How've you been, Mitch?" She asked, politely.

"Pretty good," he said, with a mouthful of food. "How 'bout you?"

"Pretty good," she lied.

"Where's your sister?" Professor said, setting a plate on the table in front of the empty chair next to Bubbles.

"I don't know," Buttercup said. "I told her to come down."

The professor went back to the stove to fix up his own plate.

Finally, Blossom came down. "Sorry, guys. I wanted to finish my homework first."

"Wanna finish mine?" Buttercup said.

"You haven't even _started_ it," Mitch interjected.

They made light conversation as they ate. The only one who didn't really talk was Bubbles, who didn't have much of an appetite. She twirled the noodles around her fork and halfheartedly listened to the others talk; zoning out into her own little world, catching herself and tuning back in, over and over and over again. Nobody seemed to notice how withdrawn she'd been, lately. Everyone was busy doing their own thing, and the girls weren't very close anymore. They could no longer read her like they used to.

* * *

After supper, she did her homework in her room and took a bath before turning in for the night. Satan tuned back in just as she was getting ready for bed. She changed into her pajamas and tucked herself in with her favorite stuffed animal, a purple octopus named Octi, that she could never bring herself to get rid of. She closed her eyes and he waited for her to drift off to sleep. Waited until he figured REM had kicked in.

Tonight, he had a plan.


End file.
